Payback
by omggcece
Summary: He's to young for a midlife crisis, but it feels like his age is slapping him in the face. / Or Sam visits Spencer and pays him back for the motorcycle he gave her, in her own special way.


Spencer tossed and turned, trying desperately to get comfortable. It didn't matter where he put his arm or leg or whatever, he would still lie still for a second before his eyes would pop open and he'd start tossing and turning. Spencer was exhausted from making sculptures all day. Spencer was lonely because as soon as Carly came home from Italy she left for college. Spencer was bitter because all of those short, meaningless flings weren't fun anymore. All of his friends were getting settled, having kids-even Socko! What was he doing? He was going to die alone. A shriveled old man, all alone, still in Bushwell Plaza acting as if he was a manchild.

Maybe this was why Spencer hadn't slept right since the day Carly left, the day that changed lives and threw so many into turmoil, because he never wanted to be alone. That in fact was one of his biggest fears. At first, being 30 and not having met 'the perfect woman' seemed okay. Now, that he was 32, alone and scared, it didn't seem okay. It didn't seem okay at _all_.

Spencer finally accepted the fact he wasn't going to get any sleep that night. _Maybe I can finally finish up that sculpture, _Spencer thought, taking his time untangling his longs legs from his blankets. _Maybe I should take a shower, too. _Tossing and turning while wrapped up in those thick blankets had made him sweaty. His hair was a mess, too.

Why did his appearance even matter, though? There was no one who was going to see him.

Spencer sighed, feeling much older than 32. Where did the years _go_? It seemed like just yesterday Carly was a baby and _he _was the young one, the one who was excited to get out into the world and make something of himself. "If Carly's lucky she'll do better with that than I did," Spencer said out loud to himself. He hadn't said anything out loud since the last time he chatted with Socko, which was about three days ago. It felt good to do that. Spencer made a mental note to just say his thoughts out loud from now on - no one was around to hear them!

Spencer dragged his feet all the way over to his fridge. He still had leftovers from the dinner he made last night, because he made way more than needed for one person. Just like he'd been doing every dinner since Carly left, leaving him all alone.

"If I don't stop thinking that sentence I'll be depressed," Spencer said, quietly, "or maybe I'm already depressed." It was getting harder and harder to pretend to be his normal, hyper self whenever he talked to Carly, Sam, or Freddie over the phone and the few times he actually had visitors. He hadn't been on a date in three months. That...that was a record. It was just, for Spencer, none of the girls he ran into on the streets of Seattle were the kind of woman he was looking for but - he didn't _know _what he was even looking for!

It was creepy.

It was creepy, uncomfortable, depressing having the only sounds as he ate being his chewing and some crappy laugh track on TV.

He almost ran to the sink once he finished eating, resisting the urge to throw the plate, just to do something _exciting._

The sound of the water hitting the dirty dishes and the sounds from the TV mixing together is almost comforting.

_Plop._

_Plop._

_Plop._

_"I swear, Mom, it was an accident!"_

_"Tell that to your father when he gets home!"_

_Plop._

It also gives him an urge to scream.

He doesn't scream.

_Plop._

_"We're just your ordinary, everyday, family..."_

_Plop._

_Knock._

Spencer stopped suddenly, shocked. Did he just hear...

_Knock._

Someone's at the door.

But, who could it be?

His heart racing, so excited for something out of the ordinary finally happening, he dashes to open the door, runs so fast he's out of his breath by the time he gets there. Spencer yanks open the door, not even bothering to ask who it is, and his heart nearly skips a beat when he sees Sam Puckett standing on his doorstep, wearing a leather jacket and jeans, not looking very different from the last time he saw her. The only thing different is Spencer can tell that she's matured, had a lot more crazy adventures, that he isn't a part of.

There's a weird mix of nostalgia and nauseous kind of feeling he gets.

Sam slowly smiles, stepping into the home she knew so well. "It's been a while, Spence."

He shut the door closed.

"Sam, why are you here? I haven't seen you in years!" Spencer exclaimed, not quite sure of how he's supposed to approach this new, older Sam. She's not the little girl he knew so well...not anymore.

"I was on my - yours - that motorcycle you gave me. Right before I left." Sam turned around to face and jammed her hands in the pockets of her jacket, like she was nervous. _Why would Sam be nervous around me? I'm the one who should be nervous! I'm still the same Spencer I've always been, _Spencer thought. He was still intimidated by the thought of Sam being a _woman _now. "I thought of you. Wanted to see how you're doing. I see you still make sculptures?"

Spencer ignored Sam's weak attempt at starting a conversation. "Carly told me you lived in California, and you had a babysitting business," Spencer said slowly, still shocked Sam was standing in front of him. "There has to be some reason you'd come to Seattle in the middle of the week just to see an old man!"

Sam rolled her eyes. "You're not an old man, Spencer."

Spencer tried not to smile. He was to young to have a midlife crisis, but, gosh lately he felt like his age was starting to slap him in the face. It felt good to have a young, pretty girl like Sam compliment him. "Well you _are _ biased. You did have a crush on me."

"Yeah, that's true, I did," Sam replied softly. Spencer hadn't noticed until now, but Sam had closed the distance between them. They were standing so close now Spencer could her breathing...the muffled sounds of the TV that sounded like it was miles away...the way his heart sounded as it pounded against his chest. Why was his heart racing? This was Sam. Sam Puckett, his baby sister's best friend, someone he had always considered to be family. His heart never raced around family, unless he was trying to trick them into thinking he was a lawyer.

"You must be lonely," Sam continued, placing a hand on his chest. "All alone, in this house, without Carly..."

"Yeah." Spencer admitted. Sam's hand was grabbing at his t-shirt now, pulling him even closer, so that their lips were brushing.

"Let me make you feel...not lonely. Let me pay you back for that motorcycle," Sam whispered, and before Spencer could even register what she said they were kissing, attacking each other's mouths.

Sam pushed Spencer onto the couch, straddling him. It was obvious who was in control of this, but Spencer was definitely kissing back, caressing the younger woman, and admitting to himself that _she is not family, no way in hell._

_._

_a/n: _come on. with the way icarly ended, there's no way spencer could have been happy. and, I've always thought if icarly had been more 'mature' spam would've probably happened...they were prob. the best, most compatible pairing tbh


End file.
